THE REUNION OF THE UNYOUNG…

There we were Yiannis and myself at the inter-city bus station at Chania, waiting for the coach to pull in from Heraklion.  My old friend Kim and hubby, all the way from Malaysia, were coming to stay with us after trotting around various places in Greece. We hadn’t seen each other for almost forty years, when we were actually young. Over the phone when she was in Heraklion, she called me and said with a laugh of incredulity in her voice…`We’d now be meeting up as two grannies!’…Goodness gracious great balls of fire…HOW DID THE YEARS CREEP UP ON US? When my now departed mother-in-law used to lament on how the years had sneaked up on her and taken her by surprise, I never sympathized with the poor old dear…`Everybody grows old…’ I used to say, shrugging off her wistfulness as an inability to mellow and embrace all her wrinkles and crinkles gracefully…And now look at me.

Just before we went to the station that Monday afternoon on 8 May, I had decided to scramble up a meal so we could sit in the backyard, although it was still quite cool, and enjoy lunch, admire the garden and just yak away about all those yesteryears that had slipped by. I must confess that I am such an incorrigible last minute person. I only get all charged up when the hours tick by and I’m faced with a breathless deadline. That very morning I hadn’t even decided what to cook, let alone done any food shopping. When Yiannis was leaving for work, I asked frantically…`What shall I cook?’…He picked up his bag and gave me that `what else’ look and said…`CHICKEN CURRY.’ This takes me back to Annie’s wedding in 2018 when my whole family, sisters and nieces and spouses and a baby towed along, flew in from Malaysia, England and Australia and we had lunch in the back garden and I cooked…CHICKEN CURRY. The following days we ate out or ordered food and the very last day before they left, I decided to cook and asked…`What shall I cook?’…Sister number 3 looked at me kindly and said…`Why don’t you cook that…CHICKEN CURRY.’…And I did.

So now back to the station waiting for my long missed friend and hubby. When she alighted the coach, it was like the years had melted away and there she was…slim and lovely like in the old days with life’s experiences folded gently into her face. As for me, I fear my lipstick has gone a little redder to divert attention from the lines on my visage. Ahh… that familiar unassuming smile of hers… took me back to our youthful days, when we were both young tutors at the National University Of Malaysia [ Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia]. We shared an office and were in a car pool with two others, a male and a female colleague…the guy would sit stiffly as the motorway whipped by and looked straight ahead and hardy said a word. In fact, nobody could slip a word in edgeways, as the other female colleague garrulously unleashed her tongue and sent our brains spinning. Finally the car pool was whittled down to Kim and myself and what a grand time we had chatting away as 40 minutes of the Malaysian motorway whizzed past us.

We picked up from where we left off so many years ago, as if it was just yesterday. I asked after some of the old colleagues…`Hey what happened to B?…`Oh he died.’…There was a pause and a little silence and we both murmured that he was a lot older than us etc and then I went…`Oh what happened to M?…`Oh, she set up her own school and then died suddenly.’…Oh, ‘ I said. `They seem to be dropping like flies and dying.’…We laughed but with no disrespect for our colleagues who had passed. I believe it was a nervous laugh…it reminded us with a certain amount of unease that… our mortal coils were shuffling away.

Oh yes, this conversation took place while we were eating my CHICKEN CURRY in the back garden. They appeared to be enjoying it but it lacked the fiery oomph that their Malaysian palate was accustomed to. So with every mouthful, they crunched into these chillies that they had collected from our garden and the sight of it transported me straight back to sunny tropical skies and spicy food and chilli padis that set your tongue on fire. It was so great to have them and I did miss Malaysia so.

They were with us only for five days so we had to cram in as much as possible. One of the places that was a MUST was Malerme, where the old military airport was. Both hubbies, war enthusiasts, the Cretan and the Kiwi, who had devoured massive amounts of literature on the subject, were regurgitating on Hill 107…What the hell was Hill 107?… I must admit I am a history retard, unlike Kim who seemed more knowledgeable. I tugged Yiannis’ sleeve and asked him about the significance of the hill and he explained in Greek and thank goodness because the others might have been shocked at my total ignorance. Somewhere on top of hill 107, our war boys disappeared to re-enact a significant chapter of The Battle Of Crete. It was a vantage point for the allies in WW2. Kim and I walked around and called their names and they didn’t appear and so we sat on a bench and chatted and admired the blue sea glittering like a jewel in the distance. Then we heard the faint voices of the Cretan and the Kiwi thrashing out the details of how hill 107 was abandoned with a breakdown of communication with headquarters. Stephen’s uncle was wounded on this hill and he needed to breathe the air and touch the soil where his countrymen and family member fought, so far away from home…and Yiannis…needed to take him through the pages of history, where his own ancestors rushed in droves from the surrounding villages with pitchforks and rusty farm implements to fight off the invading forces…WOW heavy stuff for my muddly brain.

At some point we managed to extricate ourselves from the clutches of the past and breathe freely and enjoy the old port, lined with fish taverns and wind through the narrow alleys with little shops spilling out local wares. Oh yes, we did visit the reconstructed Minoan boat and the Naval Museum and I learnt a few more things about the war history of the island, which to my terrible shame, I had put off for years and lived in relative ignorance and bliss. We also shared wonderful meals…Cretan and fusion… and intoxicating vino…at the port with the rocking boats, high up in the mountains where the hawks glide and at the old tanneries at a splendid reconstructed restaurant.

 Kim loves old wooden doors. So we stood in front of this massive engraved door of the Church Of The Three Martyrs and the cameraman poised his mobile and clicked and she shouted…`Stephen wait! Let me suck in my tummy.’ And I added…` Let me just push my hair up.’ But the cameraman went on clicking and we came out in the most hilarious of poses and facial expressions. There was one of me pushing my hair up and gazing at the heavens…`Hey you’re posing like Gina Lollobrigida!’ guffawed Kim. Gosh! I WAS posing like that ancient actress, now deceased. Later on she told me that we looked like players that had tumbled out of a Monty Python Show.

On the last day, all the way to Souda Port, where they would take the overnight ferry to Athens, the two war junkies discussed the possible scenarios of hill 107 with a bunch of… WHAT IFS??? We said our goodbyes with little strains of melancholy plucking at my heart. The two war historians had smirks of satisfaction scribbled on their faces…with their what ifs, they had re-written the history of hill 107.

*Lee Su Kim is a much loved Malaysian author.

Cheers till the next time.

in the mountains

Kim and Stephen on Hill 107

Gina Lollobrigida pose